Chapter 45

Elara

The sharp pain of Alaric’s fangs sinking into the buttery skin of my throat suddenly brought me

crashing back to reality.

My eyes flew open, and the feeling of Alaric—his lips brushing against my neck, his teeth

sinking into my skin, his manhood slowly filling me—hit me like a tidal wave.

This was wrong. We weren’t supposed to…

My hands shot up to press against his chest, pushing him back just enough to separate us. But I

didn’t even need to push him, because reality seemed to wash over him at the same time, and

he fell backwards like he’d just been shot, quickly covering himself and zipping his trousers back

up.

For a moment, we just sat there on the floor of the shower, panting and staring incredulously at

one another.

The heat in the room between us was unbearable, even with the cold water rushing over us. But

now, instead of pure desire and excitement, the air was filled with confusion and regret.

Alaric’s gaze locked onto mine, the glow in his eyes instantly going out as he stared at the fresh

trail of blood streaming down my neck and swirling into the shower drain.

“Elara, I—”

I didn’t give him time to finish, nor did it seem he knew what to say.

My throat tightened as I suddenly bolted to my feet, not caring if the room swayed and spun

around me.

Gasping, I stumbled out of the shower and lurched across the room, gripping the cool marble

edge of the sink to keep myself upright. My knees still trembled from the lingering feeling of him

inside of me, even though it had only been for a moment, and I hated that I wished he were still

there.

The mirror was fogged over, but even the blurred reflection of myself was enough to make my

stomach churn. My hands trembled as I wiped a section clear, just enough to see it—the mark.

Fresh, red, throbbing… and utterly real.

I winced as my shaky fingers brushed over it, the skin tender and sore. But above all else, it

was… alive with a tingling pulse that wasn’t mine. It was his.

Alaric’s pulse, his very essence, was thrumming through me like a second heartbeat. It was…

exhilarating. And terrifying. My breath hitched as a shiver coursed down my spine, and I

dropped my hand back to my side.

“What have we done?” I whispered, my voice lost beneath the sound of the rushing water.

Behind me, Alaric stepped out of the shower and shut off the water. The sudden silence in the

room was deafening. I met his reflection in the mirror, his jaw tight and his expression

unreadable as he grabbed a towel and stepped toward me.

Without a word, he draped it over my shoulders, his hands lingering just long enough to send

another ripple of warmth through me—a warmth that I shouldn’t have been feeling.

This relationship was supposed to be fake. It was supposed to be a temporary arrangement for

the girls’ sakes. We were only supposed to pretend for six months, just long enough to make the

council happy, and then go our separate ways.

But now…

Now, it was so much more complicated.

“This is on him,” Alaric said, his voice low but filled with anger. “Asher. This is his fault. If he

hadn’t had you taken, if he hadn’t…” He trailed off, his fists clenching at his sides. “I’ll make him

pay for this.”

I shook my head, gripping the towel tighter as I turned to face him. “No, Alaric. I don’t… I don’t

think this was Asher’s doing.”

His brow furrowed. “Of course it was. Who else would dare to do something so heinous?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted, my voice a little steadier now. “But it wasn’t him. Asher… he seemed

to think that you were the one who sent me to the auction.”

Alaric scoffed. “I would never—”

“I know you wouldn’t,” I cut him off, wincing slightly as his raised pulse sent a fresh thrum

through our mate bond, a foreign and unexpected feeling. “But I think someone else did this.

Not Asher.”

“Who?”

“I’m not sure,” I said quietly, biting my lip.

Alaric exhaled sharply and ran a hand through his wet hair. His shirt clung to him like a second

skin, the water pooling at his feet a reminder of just how messy this situation had become. I had

to force myself not to stare at him.

Finally, he stepped back and grabbed his phone off the counter. I watched as he tapped on the

screen, sending a message.

Not long after, there was a knock on the hotel room door. I tensed instinctively, wrapping my

towel more tightly around myself, but Alaric opened it to reveal no one other than an assistant

holding a shopping bag. He took the bag and closed the door, turning to me.

“Fresh clothes,” he said, pulling a bundle out of the bag and handing it to me. “Take your time.”

I thanked him meekly and took the bundle, returning to the bathroom. The clothes still had tags

on them, clearly just purchased from one of the many stores nearby: a pair of leggings, a

sweater, warm socks and slippers, and some undergarments.

Since my gown had been stolen, this would have to do. It was certainly better than walking

around in soaking wet lingerie.

I dried off and changed quickly, avoiding my reflection in the mirror as much as possible. But

every time I caught a glimpse of the mark, my stomach flipped. It wasn’t supposed to be there.

We weren’t supposed to be real.

What would happen now that we were marked, I wondered? Unmarking a mate could have

serious consequences—it could severely weaken one or both parties. In some rare cases, the

mate who was rejected could die.

This was so much more complicated than it was supposed to be. As if our situation wasn’t

already complicated enough.

When I finally stepped out of the bathroom, Alaric was waiting for me on the bed. He had

changed into dry clothes as well, his usual composed demeanor back in place, although his

eyes still carried a storm I doubted would clear anytime soon.

He glanced up as I entered, his gaze lingering on me—on the red bite mark on my neck—just

long enough to make my cheeks heat up all over again.

“Where are the girls?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.

“In the private lounge,” he said. “James should still be with them.”

I frowned. “We need to take them home. They’ve been through enough already.”

He nodded and stood. “Let’s go.”

The walk to the lounge was quiet, the weight of everything that had happened—and everything

that hadn’t—hanging heavy in the air between us. My hand accidentally brushed against his

once as we turned a corner, and I pulled away quickly, the spark of the bond almost too much to

bear.

When we reached the lobby, though, we were halted in our tracks by the sound of James’s

voice.

“Alpha Alaric! Alpha Alaric!”

We both turned to see James rushing toward us, his face pale. Alaric’s face hardened, and I felt

my stomach twist. The girls weren’t with James. In fact, in the now-quiet hotel lobby, I couldn’t

see them anywhere.

“Where are the girls?” Alaric demanded.

James skidded to a halt in front of us, looking panicked.

“They just ran off!” he panted. “I can’t find them anywhere!”